


Pinky Swear

by Knightlycat



Series: Genie!verse [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knightlycat/pseuds/Knightlycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana discovers that having a genie isn't as easy as Blaine makes it look, but something tells her that Brittany is worth it. One-shot that follows Santana and Brittany after we leave them in chapter 14 of 'All I Ever Wanted'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pinky Swear

Santana waved to Kurt as he walked out the door, leaving her alone with Brittany. Brittany, her genie. Crap.

She’d told Kurt to go, told him that she and Brittany would be fine and that they needed time to get to know each other. She had looked calm and confident and he had believed her. She must be a better actress than she thought. Inside she was freaking out, imagining worse-case genie related scenarios. Kurt had mentioned that Brittany might be a little disoriented due to the extended time she had spent locked away in her samovar and that her behavior and powers might be a little…erratic. What was she going to do if things started going haywire?

Santana was picturing her house floating off into the sky attached to a big bunch of balloons a la ‘Up!’ when she heard a noise from inside the house.  She quickly shut the door and rushed into the living room to find Brittany floating in mid-air, examining the large painting that hung high over the fireplace.

“Pretty,” Brittany sighed, bobbing and weaving a bit as she examined the Degas.

“Yeah, umm, it was a gift from my parents. One of the few things they’ve given me that didn’t suck.”

“He did such a good job.  Look, this one’s me!  Yay!”

“What?” Santana grabbed a chair and jumped up to take a closer look.  The painting was of a group of ballet dancers practicing to the music of a seated violinist. Towards the center of the painting, shown near the back wall of the practice room, was a blond ballerina who did in fact look a lot like Brittany. “How…?”

“My connection at the time loved the ballet and his wish was to see me dance, so there I was. Look,” she pointed to the violinist, “That’s him. This was in 1870-something, right? I’m not so good with time. It all kind of gets mixed up in my head.” Brittany lowered herself to the ground and began to explore the rest of the room.

“Yeah, 1873.” Santana stepped off the chair and sat down, afraid her legs might not hold her much longer.

“I think I remember that one because it’s the last real connection I had.”

Santana was appalled. “You mean you’ve been in that…bottle thing... since the 1870s?”

“I had a few weeks out here and there, but mostly, yes. I stopped counting the connections that lasted under a month.”

“So when was the last time you were…out, even just for a short time?”

“I-I don’t know.” Brittany looked thoughtful for a moment, her brow furrowed. “I can’t remember.” She looked sad for a moment then her face brightened, a wide smile filling her face. “This is the last dress I wore. Maybe you can tell from that?”

The air shimmered around her and suddenly she was wearing a calf-length dress, cape-style jacket, and stylish little hat that would have looked right at home in an old Ginger Rogers/Fred Astaire movie. That would make it the 1930s or 40s. Santana was trying to think of a proper response to this information, when she saw that Brittany had lost interest in the conversation and was roaming around the room, pulling books from the shelves, looking inside vases, and staring in shock (and definite interest) at the skimpily clad model of the cover of a magazine.

“Lord Tubbington is really going to love it here. The furniture looks really comfortable and he’s going to love napping on those high shelves. Just make sure to lock up your diary and anything else you don’t want him getting into. He hasn’t learned how to open a lock…yet.”

It was the second time that the girl had mentioned this ‘Lord Tubbington’, but Santana was a little afraid to ask about this mysterious man who would be napping on her shelves. “So Britt, can I call you Britt?” Brittany nodded her encouragement from across the room. “Britt, can you come here so that we can talk a bit?” The girl sat next to Santana on the couch, folding one leg beneath her and giving Santana all of her attention. “It’s the 21st century and there have been big changes since you were last out and about. I mean, have you even been to Breadsticks?” She took Brittany’s puzzled look as a ‘no’ and continued on, starting with a quick history lesson before moving on to modern things the girl wouldn’t be familiar with, like mobile phones, computers, and space travel, but from the confusion on Brittany’s face she knew she wasn’t getting through. “Maybe I’ll just show you the news or a History Channel special or something.”

She reached for the TV remote and pushed the button to turn it on. The TV awoke with the sound of explosions, a war movie filling the room with its loud soundtrack. Brittany gave a startled scream and fell off the couch. Instantly the TV began to waiver and sway, then it disappeared, leaving a dust-free vacancy on the cabinet on which it had sat.

“What the hell? You made my TV disappear.” Santana was unsure of how to react, still unused to seeing magic in action, even after having known Kurt for several months.

“I’m sorry!” Brittany wrung her hands, looking as if she was about to cry. “It was just so loud and I-I didn’t know that people had movie theaters in their houses now. I’m so stupid. I’ll bring it back.”

“Stop it,” Santana’s voice rang with anger for the first time that night. “Don’t you dare call yourself that. You’re not stupid, you just a little lost right now.  It’s not your fault that some damn idiot locked you away in that vase thing for over 80 years.” Her voice gentled and she reached out a finger to tip Brittany’s head up so she could look into her eyes. “You just need time to catch up. Don’t worry.  I’ll help you.”

“You’re just going to get mad at me and break the connection like everyone else has.”

“Never. You’re stuck with me, kid, until _you_ decide you want out.”

“You swear?”

“I’ll even pinky swear.”

“Pinky…swear?”

“A pinky swear is an eternal promise. It can’t be broken.” Santana raised her right hand up, pinky extended straight in the air. ‘Come on, just do what I do.”

“Will it hurt?” Brittany asked worriedly as she copied Santana and extended her finger to the sky.

“Not at all.” Santana joined her pinky with Brittany’s and looked her straight in the eye. “I, Santana Lopez, pinky swear that I’ll never break our connection, no matter how many TVs you make disappear.”

Brittany smiled the brightest smile Santana could ever remember seeing and gave her a quick hug before running over to the cabinet to try and make the TV reappear.

Santana watched her go, grateful for even a moment alone to think about what had just happened. She was surprised by her own reaction to the whole situation. Her first instinct was usually to yell or make a biting comment, so she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t being true to form now. She felt…protective and okay, if she was going to be honest with herself, mega attracted to Brittany. This was definitely the universe paying her back for making fun of Blaine and his infatuation for Kurt.

Santana ordered pizza for dinner and they ate it in front of the TV. Brittany was completely enamored with the new food (“How did they get the pie so flat? Did they run over it with a steam roller?”) and declared that it was the only food she wanted to eat for the rest of her life. Santana let her control the remote and after 45 minutes of constant channel switching she finally settled in on ‘War of the Worlds’, despite Santana’s protests that it probably wasn’t the best introduction to modern society. Brittany was enthralled by the movie, watching wide-eyed as Tom Cruise and Dakota Fanning fled from the alien invaders. Santana found that she watched Brittany more than she did the movie, laughing when Brittany covered her eyes during the alien scenes, sneaking peeks through the gaps in her fingers, and fighting back tears when the other girl began to cry when the father and daughter were split up.

Finally the movie ended and Santana declared that it was time for bed. Kurt had told her that Brittany would just sleep in the samovar, so Santana said goodnight to the genie and watched her disappear in a spark of light. Alone again at last she walked silently to her room. She thought about calling Blaine to ask his advice, but he and Kurt were headed off to New York early the next morning and despite her reputation as a heartless bitch, she didn’t want to ruin what could be a big weekend for their relationship. On automatic pilot she got ready for bed and slipped between the sheets, pulling the covers up to her chin and contemplating the ceiling. She had a genie. A genie who was going to grant her three wishes.

What in the world would she wish for? She had money, she had a job, and god knows she was already lookin’ fine, so what else could she ask for? She could wish that all the narrow minded politicians in the country would suddenly wake up with genitalia on their foreheads.  She laughed to herself as she pictured their disgust and confusion. She could wish for all of the people who pissed her off to be relocated to a deserted island somewhere, but that would make for a very crowded deserted island. She could wish that her father would be forced to stand at the end of a busy freeway off-ramp with a sign reading “I’m an ass, ask me why!” Hmm, that was definitely one to consider.

Santana Lopez now had a genie. Well, stranger things had happened. Actually no, no they hadn’t.

 “Santana?” A voice pulled Santana from her sleep, where she had been dreaming about blond hair, blue eyes and, well, never mind.

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay with you?”

“Britt, we already talked about this. Yes, you can stay, I agreed to the connection.”

“No, I mean, right now. Here. Can I stay? It’s…it’s lonely in my samovar and I’ve spent so much time alone. And…I’m kind of afraid the aliens are going to land tonight. I’ll be really still and won’t bother you, I promise.”

Santana felt a pull at what was left of her heart strings. “Of course, jump in.”

Brittany gave a squeal of delight and dove into the bed, snuggling under the covers. They lay in silence for a while, neither one close to sleep. After several minutes Brittany reached out with her pinky finger and gently crooked it around Santana’s. At the touch Santana felt the rage that was always bubbling beneath her skin subside for a moment and a calm that she hadn’t felt in years filled her. She crooked her own finger in response, smiled, and drifted off to sleep.

 


End file.
